


Ghosts

by swaps55



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: And rather awkward, Friendship, Gen, Post Alchera, Pre-ME2, Shepard mentioned but not gendered, We're In This Together So Let's Make The Most Of It I Guess, it's complicated - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-27
Updated: 2018-01-27
Packaged: 2019-03-10 06:28:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13496650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swaps55/pseuds/swaps55
Summary: “I know it’s weird,” Joker continues, hesitating over each word. “You and I don’t exactly…well, whatever. Ashley was about all you and me had in common, and she’s dead.”Kaidan flinches.Jokers hand shakes as he takes a drink, the liquid inside wobbling almost enough to slosh over the edge. “I’d have called Pressly or Chase, but hey, they’re dead too. This day got closer and closer and I just didn’t…” He exhales. “I guess some days even people who like to be alone need some company."





	Ghosts

“I didn’t think you were going to show.”

Kaidan slides onto the empty stool next to Joker, who’s staring down at the bar like it’s a nav console, a half-empty glass of something amber at his elbow. There’s another glass in front of the empty stool that’s full. Kaidan doesn’t ask what it is. Doesn’t even say hello before he takes a deep sip. Whiskey. Good. It’s a whiskey kind of day.

He almost hadn’t shown. This wasn’t something he really wanted to commemorate with people, and especially not here. Of all the bars on Arcturus, Joker had to pick this one.

Joker smirks into his glass. “Everyone thought I was being stood up by a date.”

“Got held up in a briefing,” Kaidan replies. He thinks about apologizing, but doesn’t. This is already weird enough.

“Of course you did. The Alliance is actually keeping you busy.”

“Yeah.” Kaidan takes another drink, tries not to look at the booth to his right, almost but not quite out of eyeshot. Feels like a lifetime ago that he was sitting in it, 0600 the morning of a new assignment, his brand new superior office sitting in front of him nursing a bitch of a hangover with another beer.   

The  _ Normandy’s _ former pilot looks about as bad as Shepard had on that morning five years ago. His uniform hangs on him. Beard hasn’t been trimmed, at least not lately. Even bad lighting and a low-brim hat doesn’t hide the dark circles under his eyes.

Kaidan’s chest tightens. Five years ago he had looked across the table at a soldier in pain and done something about it. But this time he’s tired. So fucking tired. He doesn’t have the energy to rescue anyone, even Joker. In a flash of bitterness he wishes for once that he wasn’t the one who gave a damn. Let someone else care for a change.

“Chakwas coming?” Kaidan asks, stifling his anger before it shows up in ways he’ll regret later. He’s already almost killed the glass. He’d told himself that he wasn’t going to handle it this way, but it appears that had been a lie. He signals the bartender and orders another round. Joker tips his cap in thanks.

“She shipped out a week ago.”

“Shipped out?”

Joker nods, aggressively avoiding eye contact even though they haven’t really made any since Kaidan walked in. “Mars Naval.”

“I thought she wanted to serve on a ship?”

“She did.”

Kaidan digests this silently. The Alliance had gone out of their way to split up what was left of the  _ Normandy’s  _ crew. And most of them had gotten shit assignments out of it. He shifts uncomfortably on his stool. Joker notices.

“They planted her on Mars. Stuck Adams on a frigate patrolling the middle of nowhere. Sent Pressly’s family a medal and left me here to rot.” He swirls the liquid in his glass, glances at Kaidan out of the corner of his eye. “Your file, however, gets more and more and more classified every day.” 

“I’m flattered you’re checking up on me.”

“Well, when I’m the only one who seems to give a shit about what happened to everyone, you know we’re fucked.” There’s a scowl in his voice, and more than a little accusation. Kaidan will be damned if he lets Joker see him flinch.

“Doesn’t mean the rest of us don’t care,” he says carefully. Controlled. He’s good at control. “Just means we don’t go around throwing punches at superior officers who don’t like what we have to say.”

Ok, maybe right now he’s not as good at control as he’d like to be.

Joker curls a lip. Covers it with his glass. “Oh, you heard about that, huh?”

“Yeah. I heard about it.”

The Alliance might want to bury the details from the Battle of the Citadel, but it took more than just that to bench the best pilot in the fleet. Losing your shit at the commander assigned to your psych evaluation wasn’t a good look. Joker had indeed been rotting on Arcturus, for nearly eight months. By the looks of it, that wasn’t going to change any time soon.

Joker huffs a little. It’s not a happy sound. “You know, I usually don’t get too depressed about having a skeleton made out of fine china. But that asshole needed a good punch in the face, and my worthless meatsack couldn’t even make that happen with any sense of satisfaction.”

“If you’d actually decked him, you’d have been court martialed. Or worse. So there’s that, at least.” That is only partially a lie. The fact that Joker hadn’t really hurt the guy had been almost immaterial. Half the reason he’d gotten off so light was because Kaidan had gotten involved – rather vehemently – on his behalf. But Joker doesn’t know that, and Kaidan doesn’t really see the need to tell him.

At the table behind them Kaidan hears whispering. The place is mostly occupied with grunts and cadets. Kaidan and Joker might be the only officers in the place, and it appears they’ve been recognized. Kaidan hunches his shoulders a little. Joker casts him a sidelong glance and shakes his head before taking another swig from his glass. “They always notice. Forget about it.”

“Yeah,” Kaidan says. His gaze lingers on that damned booth. It’s empty, which makes it easier to stare. See ghosts.

“Would you rather sit at the table?” Joker asks with a pointed look.

“No,” Kaidan says, much harsher than he intends to.

Joker shrugs moodily. “Right, whatever.”

There’s a long silence. There’s nothing comfortable in it.

“Thanks for coming,” Joker says gruffly, staring into his drink.

Kaidan glances at him in surprise. “Of course.”

“I know it’s weird,” Joker continues, hesitating over each word. “You and I don’t exactly…well, whatever. Ashley was about all you and me had in common, and she’s dead.”

This time Kaidan does wince.

Jokers hand shakes as he takes a drink, the liquid inside wobbling almost enough to slosh over the edge. “I’d have called Pressly or Chase, but hey, they’re dead too. This day got closer and closer and I just didn’t…” He exhales.

Kaidan resists the urge to say something, getting the feeling that if he spoke Joker would stop and not start again.

“I guess some days even people who like to be alone need some company,” he went on. “And everyone else is dead or gone and…” He scrubs the corner of his eye with a fist, then downs the rest of his glass and orders another. “So yeah. Thanks for coming.”

There are a dozen things Kaidan could say, but none of them feel right. His eyes drift back to the empty booth.

“This is where Shepard and I first met,” he says after another long silence. Every muscle in his body is tense. He’s never said anything about that day to anyone. Never imagined he ever would, especially not to Joker of all people.

“What,  _ here _ ?” the pilot asks, genuinely surprised.

“Yeah,” Kaidan replies. “Right there, in that booth. It…wasn’t a good day. It was the morning we were reporting for duty on the  _ Marathon _ . Shepard’s first assignment after Torfan.”

“Shit,” Joker says after a moment.

Kaidan nods. It’s his turn to stare at his glass. “Turns out the Savior of the Citadel is just as human as the rest of us, when you get down to it.”

In his mind he remembers Shepard, not the hero that everyone else pictured, but the person Kaidan had seen on that very first meeting. The soldier who had done things that made it hard to sleep at night. The marine who looked in the mirror and saw a monster, and had reached that point where keeping everyone else from seeing that same reflection was just a little too much to ask. That day, Shepard had been just as human, just as broken as anyone else. That Kaidan had been the one to witness it, been the one to offer a hand when Shepard was willing to take it, had nothing to do with Kaidan and everything to do with random chance. Some days, he’s eternally thankful that it happened the way it did. Others, like on the anniversary of Shepard’s death, he wishes it had been anyone else.

He takes a deep breath. “Its okay to hurt. It’s okay to ask for help. Sometimes we all need it.”

Joker nods, gazing off at something Kaidan’ can’t see. “Yeah, guess we do.” After a moment he raises his glass. “To the  _ Normandy _ . And everyone who’s not here.”

Kaidan clinks his glass against Joker’s, then takes a swig. Orders another.

“To the  _ Normandy _ .”

  
  



End file.
